


Does the universe know we love it?

by dolos_0



Series: The Sleuthing Server Gods + Goddesses Saga [2]
Category: Original Work, The Sleuthing Server - Fandom
Genre: Canon Divergence, no beta we die like schlatt, no beta we die like trashy in the second chapter, oops spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:07:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29660820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dolos_0/pseuds/dolos_0
Summary: Everybody dies, and it will hurt, and we will scream and fall and burn, and my feathers will crumble to dust, and I will not know who I am, but I will have you and that is enough.The universe gets lonely, sometimes.
Relationships: east n trashy otp
Series: The Sleuthing Server Gods + Goddesses Saga [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2134797
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	Does the universe know we love it?

**Author's Note:**

> canon divergence bc im a baddie b
> 
> i write these at 3am with wilbur soot in the background so thats why its so dramatic

Twelve of them and the thirteenth, unlucky thirteen, but they were the luckiest motherfuckers the universe had ever seen. In the beginning, or was it the end? After so long the universe cannot remember, but she does it even so. In the beginning, the universe was lonely. And so she took some stardust, and he mixed it with her tears, and she used the clay to form twelve rough lumps. She breathed life into them, and watched them shape themselves, and thrive. She wrote their story down, their symphony, and so she is the Author of this tale.

First, oldest, comes Rosemary. They form kindly, pull their clay together into the shape of a mother and their arms could hold the whole world. They smell of warm bread and love, and their kitchen is their kingdom. They keep their siblings in check, they contain multitudes of love, more love than anyone could comprehend. They are the god of family, and their smile could light up the universe.

Second, with a clap of thunder, comes East. They form themselves through the lashing rains and howling wind, and at the end of it static makes their hand stand straight out from their head. They chase their siblings with clouds around their head, they strike the Earth with lightning whenever they get bored, they make the sun shine like a pat of butter. They are the god of the weather and the rainbows they create could light up the universe.

Third, with a scream, comes Mars. They smooth over their clay with the flat of a sword, and at the end of it, they have sharpened teeth and they snarl at anyone who touches them. They scream in triumph at every bruise, and wherever they go small fights break out. Their siblings bicker whatever they do, so they go down to Earth and thrive in the spilling of blood. They are the god of war, and the flames of their victory could light up the universe. 

Fourth, with a sigh, comes Vinyl. Their clay is formed as they listen to the sounds of waves lapping at the shore and birds singing gently. They are proud and tall and wherever they walk their fingers drum an unfamiliar melody. They sing to the stars and the stars sing back. They are the god of music, and their tune could light up the universe.

Fifth, out of the darkness, comes Nix. Their clay is shaped by gravitational fields and the tides, and dust, and when they are finished their skin shimmers slightly wherever they go. Nocturnal, melancholy, and the baby of the group. They listen to Vinyl sing to the stars, and envy them for their connection to those faraway suns. They are the god of the moon, and their soft reflection could light up the universe.

Sixth, laughing, comes Dolos. They shape themselves with honeyed words and by the time they are fully formed, they have beaten all of their siblings in poker several times over. They lie and steal, and whenever someone lies they feel a warmth in their chest. They are, perhaps, the worst of all of them, but as they always say, morally grey has never looked so good. Like a true middle child, they are wild and free. They are the god of deceit, and the sheer audacity of them could light up the universe.

Seventh, the Gemini, come Sammy and Soup. They shape each other’s clay, and when they have finished the sun is setting. Or is it rising? They cannot agree which it is, and so they each take hold of one aspect and become the same but different. They are two sides of the same coin, and so they count as one. They take it in turns to carry a little of the universe’s burden, and in between their duties, they write the words to Vinyl’s tune. They are the gods of dawn and dusk, and the sun that they carry could light up the universe.

Eighth, methodically, comes Owl. They form their clay with stones that they found on the ground and soon, only their hands are unshaped. In the end their fingers are a little sloppy, but it feels right. They try to sleep, but the constant chatter in Rosemother’s house doesn’t feel right, so they build a library. It doesn’t feel right, so they build a boat. It doesn’t feel right, so they take the hands that they rushed a bit, and write glorious tales on the walls of mountains. Their spelling leaves a lot to be desired, but no matter. They are the god of storytelling, and the tales they weave could light up the universe.

Ninth, silently, comes Ori. They stretch out, and carefully they shape themselves, over a few days. When they are done, they feel as though a rest is well-deserved, and so with a cat in their lap, they go to the library and sleep. When they awaken, more cats have curled up to them, and surrounded by books they feel content. Their siblings are already shouting, outside, but in here they are safe. They feel at home around books and warm tea and fireplaces. They always have a cat with them. They are the god of history, and the fireplace they sit in front of could light up the universe.

Tenth, in colour, comes Klaz. Their clay, during the journey from the universe’s kind hand to the Earth, has somehow gotten full of seeds, so when they had finished shaping themselves they were a mass of bright colours. As the turn of the Earth progresses, the flowers wilt and die, and they pluck the broken stems from their body. “What are you doing?” asks Nix. “I don’t know,” says Klaz. “It feels right”. When the flowers come back next year, Nix smiles at them. They are the god of growth and their beautiful colours could light up the universe.

Eleventh, wideyed, comes Sky. They leave home as soon as their clay is dried, with a sword gifted by Mars. They return as Klaz’s flowers bloom again, eyes still wide but full, now, of clouds. The lantern in their hand has a little oil left, and so as they tell the tales of their adventure, the shadows thrown against the wall tell it with them. Ori writes it down in a leather-bound journal and two weeks later they are gone again. They come and go, and slowly the library fills up. They are the god of discovery and the lantern they carry could light up the universe. 

Twelfth, penultimate, comes Kiki. They are hasty, their clay formed into the shape that lets them move the fastest. They outrun Mars, they outrun East, they spent their days sprinting around the Earth. The data superhighway, living internet. Dolos and Soup give them messages to carry. Rosemary tells them to drink water. Ori draws maps of places they’ve been. Sam exchanges stories with them. They learn everything they can about every place they go. They are the god of information, and their knowledge could light up the universe. 

~~~

There is a thirteenth god, and perhaps a god number zero, too. Here is how it works.

A long time before the humans came to Earth, the universe paid them a visit. 

“I have a gift for you” the universe said, and gave them Chaos, who had two arms and two legs, and green hair. East blushed when the Chaos looked directly at them.

The Chaos, as it is called, gives them a gift in turn. 

It reaches down to the Earth, and now they are all watching as it takes a handful of mud.

“Watch closely,” it says, and moulds the clay into the shape of the closest god (who happens to be Sammy). The small shape is placed on the Earth and as Chaos touches it gently on the forehead, it comes to life.

“Oh my me, what is that?” asks Dolos, about to prod it. Chaos slaps their hand away.

“It is called a human. And it is made of the same clay as you, so treat it with kindness. I breathed life into its lungs, as the universe did for us. It will be a small life, but they will make it big.”

With that the Chaos leaves, presumably to create more humans. The gods are left looking at the lone creature. Dolos is the first to speak.

“That Chaos kid is weird. Imma go adopt it,”

They leave, and the rest leave with them. Only Owl is left. They crouch, leaning over the human.

“You didn’t get the chance to shape your own clay.” They sit, silent for a second. The human stumbles a little as it walks around. “Perhaps...no, Rosemother would be pissed.” 

They frown again as a tiger comes upon the human. It leaps at the human, and Owl flicks it away. 

“But you didn’t get the chance to shape your own clay.”

Owl returns to the house several hours later. Sammy is high in the sky, and Nix is preparing to climb into the sky. Soup yawns, and asks them sleepily “Where’ve you been?” 

“Oh, nowhere.”


End file.
